"None, Graham; our motors are worn out; our generating material exhausted. We should require all the resources of a civilised community to make good her defects and replenish her power." "Then there is nothing for it but to do as you suggest, Doctor," said Temple; and Graham reluctantly acquiesced. While the Doctor and Sandy selected such articles as we were going to take, Temple and Graham went outside to reconnoitre, and to decide as to the best route we should take. There was little choice to be made. Radiating in every direction from where we stood, the wide desert extended in one vast scene of ruinous waste. We stood on a wide uneven rock- and sand-strewn plain, which reached to the horizon on every side. Not a trace of vegetation could we detect sprouting from the bitter, ungenerous soil; not a stream or a pool cheered its wide expanse. All round the horizon were mountains of bare and forbidding aspect; some of them crested with what looked like snow; others volcanic, and belching smoke and fire. The route toward the north-east seemed the most feasible, for in that direction the mountains were not so high, and an apparent break in the rocky girdle suggested an easier passage over them. "North-east it must be, Mr. Temple. We ought to reach the mountains by to-morrow afternoon, and get through yonder pass to the country beyond them by evening of the next day, at latest." "I think so, too," said Temple. "And now that is decided, let me take the opportunity of our few moments alone together, sincerely to thank you for our deliverance from death yesterday. You have saved my life, Graham, and anything that I can do in return I shall be only too pleased. I have not cared to speak thus to you before the Doctor, as I know the subject is distasteful to him. Whenever a woman is concerned, no matter how remotely, all his good-humour and generosity vanish. He absolutely hates women, and all to do with them." "Pray, Mr. Temple, do not thank me. I was but the agent of our deliverance, after all. Thank this wonderful priest, Echri, for it was he who saved us through Volinè's mystic ring. Why, or how, we know not; yet I am as sure of it as I am of my own existence. I cannot expect you and the rest to be so credulous as to believe in its virtues," he continued, looking at the ring and twirling it round his finger as he spoke, "but the feelings that came over me when I broke those fetters, yesternight, can never be expressed in words. Ask me not to attempt to describe them; for I desire to keep what I then felt a sacred secret." "But talking of Volinè, Graham; I am really very sorry for you. It recalls my own young days when I wooed and won the charming girl who became my wife, but only to die with her infant son in twelve short fleeting months, and to leave me in lonely sorrow. I have not got over that trouble, Graham, and I never shall, twenty years old though it is."